


Picture This

by RansomNotes



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Humor, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Minor Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Spidey Sense (Marvel), Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-23
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-11-04 07:43:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17894321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RansomNotes/pseuds/RansomNotes
Summary: Spider-Man and Deadpool are just acquaintances and occasional colleagues. But when Spider-Man is photographed being rescued and carried by Deadpool, the resulting media coverage means very different things to Peter and Wade, when everyone assumes they’re in a relationship together. A fake-dating, acquaintances-to-friends-to-lovers story, with all the humor and angst SpideyPool can provide, as Peter deals with his growing feelings and Wade copes with a very unpredictable relationship, and the Avengers are judging the whole thing from the sidelines.





	1. We have nothing in common, and everything to lose

**Author's Note:**

> For the SpideyPool Big Bang 2018, with squees of joy for my artist [TheLastPineCone](https://thelastpinecone.tumblr.com/), a firm handshake for my beta [jamie](https://im-a-beautiful-meme.tumblr.com/), and plenty of incriminating evidence framing my two cheerleaders, who don't have accounts but who are, separately, my partner in crime and my partner for all time.  
> I had such a great time participating in this Big Bang, so without further ado, let's get these crazy kids fake-dating their way to happily ever after!

Blinking slowly, Spider-Man raised his head and struggled to focus on his surroundings. His mask was still mostly on, with only his mouth exposed, which was one major concern down, and he felt sore all over, rather than any particularly sharp pain. He was handcuffed to a desk, on the industrial carpet of a small office-looking space, but at least he wasn't sprawled on the concrete floor of a dusty warehouse, like his last kidnapping experience, so, really, things could be worse.

Continuing his evaluation, he noticed a telltale calming of his Spidey senses, which lately, only means one thing: Deadpool. God knows how or why, but the unstable mercenary hadn’t triggered his danger sense the few times they've met, and often his presence seemed to quiet the other alerts, almost as though his senses felt safe around Deadpool. That seemed as insane as Deadpool, since Deadpool was anything but safe or sane, but, there it was.

Groggily, Spider-Man lifted his head to look for him. "Deadpool? Is that you?"

“Damn, Baby Boy, you just always know where you are, huh? It’s like you’re a superhero or something!”

“No, I just always know when I’m around you.” Too late he realized what that sounded like. Clearing his throat, he tried to deflect, “Anyway, is there any particular reason I’m handcuffed over here?”

Deadpool chuckled and leered at him as he closer, “So if you can’t even remember, does that mean the sex was spectacular or disastrous? No, look, I heard some baddies take you, and followed along, cause if anyone’s taking you home, sweet thing, it’ll be me. And speaking of, you’re a little banged up, and not in the fun way, so, where can I take you for some R&R?” Deadpool was fiddling with the handcuffs as he chattered, and popped them off with a wink.

Peter winced as he sat up. He’d definitely gotten roughed up from the fight, and the drugs they’d apparently knocked him out with were still clearing his system and leaving his head fuzzy. “Look, Deadpool, it’s not that I don’t appreciate your help, but, my identity’s secret, even to the Avengers, and I don’t want…I don’t feel comfortable telling you where I live.”

There was a long silence, and as much as Peter meant what he said, there was always a part of him (a _small_ part, he tried to argue with himself) that felt bad for the mercenary. He was rarely seen by the other heroes, though he’d show up to help Spider-Man often enough, and he was funny, if unbalanced.

Mainly Spider-Man didn’t like how the other heroes treated Deadpool; anytime Deadpool showed up for the major emergencies that everyone fought in, everyone was dismissive and rude to him. Granted, he’s an overwhelming personality, and he seems nearly incapable of shutting up or at least reading a room, but still. Peter had been bullied enough to not appreciate how Deadpool was treated, even if the man didn’t seem to notice or care himself. And now Deadpool had literally saved him. Spider-Man had had to get himself out of other underhanded attacks, and he’d escaped a previous kidnapping since no one seems to realize the full limits of his strength: breaking handcuffs _hurts_ , but it’s not impossible.

Deadpool was silently considering Spider-Man, and it was possibly the calmest and quietest Peter had ever seen him. He was such a blur of graceful violence in a fight, and such a bundle of energy and one-liners outside of a fight — well, during a fight, too, actually — and it was odd to see him so restrained. Reacting on impulse, Spider-Man leaned forward and reached a hand out to almost touch his arm, but falling short. “But Deadpool, honestly, thank you. I appreciate your help. I’m…My name is Peter. You could call me that, sometimes, instead of increasingly graphic comments about my physique, you know.” Peter had tried to end on a joke, but the silence lingered, and he was just beginning to worry he’d miscalculated, somehow, when Deadpool finally answered.

“Wade. My name’s Wade. And you don’t owe me anything, you didn’t have to tell me your name. In fact, you shouldn’t have. I already saw your face when you were unconscious. I put your mask back on.” Deadpool cleared his throat harshly and stepped away. He looked defensive, almost timid.

Peter was still, and considered that many among the Avengers would’ve been horrified to be one-on-one with the merc, and might not have even directly thanked him for his help, let alone offered their real name. Likely they would have been offended or angry at the perceived violation of being seen without their mask, as unintentional as it might have been. Peter might have even felt that way too, previously, but in his few run-ins with Deadpool, he’d found the merc surprisingly funny and competent, and probably not a danger, compared to what he’d expected. Peter took a deep breath and sighed.

Peter considered his options, and in the end, there wasn’t any choice. He can’t — he won’t — be part of all the Deadpool-bashing he’d witnessed, the endless revulsion and mistrust the man received from everyone else, and so he decided to swallow back his concerns and express trust, or at least understanding, to the unstable man.

Deadpool’s shoulders were rigid, in visible discomfort as he waited for the younger man to answer, so Peter decided to be like Deadpool himself, in the best possible way, with an unexpected joke. In a steady voice, with the slightest tinge of growing amusement, Peter said, “Well, I'm furious, of course. A superhero unmasking is a significant and solemn event, and you've utterly ruined the spectacle of it. Did it even occur to you to plan the soundtrack at all?"

Deadpool had initially winced, but as Peter finished speaking, his nearly buoyant body language reassured the part of Peter that still worried about the mercenary being entirely dangerous or primarily malicious. With visible excitement, Deadpool bounded back closer to Peter. “Oh, Petey, you know I never miss a little pomp and circumstance! C’mon back to my place and we can reenact the whole thing, maybe enhance the retelling and take off more than just masks, hey?”

Peter took his offered hand and tried to stand, slumping over a little with the attempt. “I think we’ll have to postpone the dramatic reenactment, my ankle’s pretty messed up.”

Deadpool slung an arm around Peter’s waist, which Peter tried not to flinch at. “Sure, Baby Boy, the part’s yours when you’re ready. So where’s your castle, pretty princess, I’ll help you there.”

Peter frowned. He didn’t feel up to swinging his way home, with the lingering dizziness from whatever they’d drugged him with, and he was exhausted and injured, but at the same time, he still absolutely did not want the mercenary knowing where he lived on top of everything else he’d learned about Peter that day.

Deadpool seemed to immediately sense his deliberation, “Look, if you’d rather, I’ve got a crash pad of my own right near here. It’s not very cozy — it’s not my main apartment, ya know, so there’s hardly any Golden Girls posters there yet — but you could sleep and shower, and I could pick up whatever food or supplies you need.”

It was proof of how overwhelmed Peter was from the day, the odd circumstances, and his injuries, or maybe just the lingering effects of the knock-out drugs, that he only vaguely remembered agreeing, and being hefted up and carried away. Nearly instantly, it felt like, he was being tucked into a bed and sinking gratefully into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

 

It was several hours later when he woke, still exhausted, but mostly healed and infinitely more clear-headed than he’d been earlier. He had a moment of panic at the unfamiliar location and strange bed he found himself in ( _we’ve got to stop waking up like this!_ ) but his Spidey sense was quiet, and the small apartment seemed empty and safe.

Regretfully he dragged himself out of the bed and looked around, before quickly showering and devouring the cold boxes of takeout that Deadpool had evidently gotten and left out for him, with ‘Spidey’ and hearts scrawled all over them. Eventually he noticed the note, amidst the other clutter in the room: “hey-oh Spider Dude, I’m off slaying dragons while you sleep, pretty princess! You’re not locked in the tower, but if you stay put I’ll tell ya what I’ve found out when I’m back tonight, and for our next date we can go baddie-hunting together, whaddya say?”

Peter shook his head at the note and shrugged to himself. He still felt pretty awful, and he didn’t mind an excuse to rest more, especially since he didn’t have any pressing tasks waiting back at his apartment, though he would need to turn in some new pics to the Bugle soon. At least his most recent college semester was over already, so he had no homework looming over his head, for now, at least.

With a sigh, he climbed back into the bed, and fell asleep again.

* * *

 

He woke suddenly and alertly a few hours later, when his Spidey sense startled him awake. Immediately he could tell Deadpool was back, but it took a moment to realize his Spidey sense was reacting to something else, outside the apartment, most likely. Deadpool stuck his head in the room.

“Baby Boy! Sorry to wake you, sweet thing, but the band’s getting back together and I know you hate to disappoint. Ready to fight for president and country, or whatever you Yanks say?” Deadpool was moving swiftly around the room and efficiently re-arming himself as he spoke.

Peter blinked at him in confusion, trying to understand what he meant and what his spidey sense was reacting to.

“C’mon, DINOSAURS to fight! Avengers are calling in the reserves, that’s you and me, Spidey Babe!”

* * *

It really was dinosaurs, and that was awesome! They’re ferocious killing machines though, go figure, and they’ve been modified to spray a sort of acid, so that was significantly less exciting and a fair bit more terrifying.

He and Deadpool had joined the fight as quickly as they could, and Peter was feeling mostly recovered. He felt a little off-kilter to have showed up with Deadpool, and he’d definitely noticed all the looks from the Avengers, but, well, he’d already decided to try to return Deadpool’s friendship as best as he could, in recompense for all his help, and as an attempt at kindness.

Stark seemed to stay intentionally closer to their area the whole time, probably keeping an eye on them, but Deadpool didn’t seem to notice, as he gleefully hacked away with his katanas. He was always so surprisingly graceful, for such a muscular guy, and it occasionally distracted Peter, who normally only caught glimpses of this deadly fluid Deadpool, in the limited time they’d spent together, and the restricted indoor spaces of most of the alleyway fights they’d briefly partnered in, whenever Deadpool happened to drop by.

But here — here Deadpool was in the zone, with room to move, and it was beautiful in a bloody and gruesome way, and doesn’t that just sum up Deadpool. Well, not beautiful, per se, Peter hurries to correct himself, internally. It was just the fight confusing him.

But as he’d noticed every time before, and even tried to downplay in their few earlier meetings and team-ups, he and Deadpool work together seamlessly.

“Heads up, Spideykins!” Deadpool called with a ridiculous cackle, as he decapitated one of the dinosaurs and Peter had to swing out of the way, while cringing at the pun.

But after all, two can play at that game, so Peter smirked and shouted back, as a dinosaur he’d webbed up plunged awkwardly down onto the pavement, “Got it! Now watch out for my Tyrannosaurus wrecks!”

Deadpool whipped his head around to look up at Peter, his huge grin apparent even through his mask. He seemed surprised and delighted to have someone banter back with him, since most of the heroes, or, honestly, even the villains, tended to ignore him. Peter had always found him funny, but in their team-ups he worried about encouraging any more familiarity and tried not to joke back too often. Deadpool hadn’t particularly seemed to notice or mind the one-sided nature of their previous conversations, but he visibly appreciated Peter’s joke attempt.

Peter grinned to himself and yelled out, “So, if we’re competing for most puns or most downed dinos, do you think you can keep up with me, ‘Pool?”

“You bet Jurassican!”

Peter choked on a surprised laugh.

They kept trading equally painfully dino jokes that Iron Man and Hawkeye both groaned at, but also tried to top, and it was the most fun Peter’s had in a long while.

Eventually, a bit battered but jubilant over their success, Peter stretched and rested on the curb near the other heroes. After all the stress and overthinking of the past day, a successful fight was just the stress-relief he’d needed. He couldn’t help grinning up at Wade when he sidled over, and when Wade sat and flung his arm over him, it didn’t even feel like that big of a deal to lean into the other man a bit. He noticed Black Widow and Captain America sending pointed looks their way, but, after all, he’d resolved to be a better friend to Wade, and sitting together after winning a battle seems minor enough an action, even if it drew attention.

With a feeling almost of regret, Peter leaned over to Wade. “Listen, I’ve gotta get going. Real life, ya know? But thanks for the save, and the place to crash. I’ll be seein’ ya.”

Deadpool tugged him in closer for more of a hug and then released his arm. “Anytime, boyfriend! You know I’ll do anything if it lands you in my bed, but you’re welcome anyway, sweet thing!” He blew an exaggerated kiss at Peter as he walked away, and Peter mentally shrugged and gave a silly finger-waggling wave goodbye to Wade, and a half salute to Captain America as he swung away.

Time to head home and see what he’d missed on his real phone while he’d been out web-slinging and being kidnapped and rescued.

It was such a pain keeping two separate phones like that, but it was a necessity, both for his anonymity, and because whatever phone he took webslinging had a regrettably short lifespan, as it inevitably was dropped, or drenched in whatever water or slime Peter got covered in throughout various fights, or crunched when someone landed a hit or Peter smashed into something.

It just wasn’t practical to keep his real phone on him when he patrolled the city, but after he’d entered his apartment and opened his main phone to see endless missed calls and messages, it sure felt impractical now to have been completely out of touch like he had been all weekend.

Most of the missed calls (and emails and messages, lots of them) were from coworkers at the Bugle, where he sold his “paparazzi” photos of himself. They seemed especially frantic for photos of Spider-Man, so without listening to any more of the voicemails, he went directly to the Bugle with the last set of photos he’d taken and edited of himself, from just a few days ago.

He didn’t have any of the fight today, unfortunately, but then again, it was a stroke of luck he hadn’t had his camera with him when he’d been taken, or he likely would have lost it, and money was tight enough without having to replace expensive equipment, yet again. His cameras weren’t quite as short-lived as his burner phones because of how careful he was with the set-ups he’d leave them in, but still, they didn’t always last long enough to be outdated before they’d suffered some regrettably violent end.

He was immediately swarmed as he walked onto his floor of the Bugle, with everyone yelling at him for photos. Jameson glared at him when he walked into the office. “Well?! Do you have any photos of the menace and his boyfriend?”

For a long moment Peter stared at Jameson in confusion, wondering if perhaps he still had a concussion, because it sounded like they all somehow thought Spider-Man was in a relationship, and a well-known one, at that.

Peter was single (so very very single) but also, Spider-Man had never had a publicly known significant other, for so many reasons, not least of which was his secret identity, and its purpose of keeping the people in his life safe.

One of Peter’s coworkers pressed a handful of printed out photos into his hands; they all looked to be blurry cellphone pics, and they all showed Spider-Man and Deadpool together. One showed the pair leaning close together and talking, and several were of Spider-Man snuggled up in Deadpool’s arms being bridal-carried away. Okay, well, this complicated things.

Peter struggled to keep his face neutral as his mind whirred through the implications. He stammered something about not having any paired off photos and backed out of Jameson’s office at the resulting screeched diatribe, because frankly, any concerns about his freelance job were very secondary to the massive problem in his hands, of being photographically and romantically linked with the mercenary.

He sank into a chair around a corner and tried to consider all the possible ramifications of this. Obviously, they weren’t actually together. Not that the Bugle would actually care about the reality of the situation, but getting a retraction or denial printed would be impossible as well as problematic, since it would risk his secret identity and likely wouldn’t affect any rumors that were already started by this.

And while it was his primary concern initially to wonder how Deadpool would handle the news, Peter felt sure he wasn’t likely to notice or care; granted, Wade was deeply unpredictable, but he wasn’t shy in his appreciation for men, and for Spider-Man in particular, so it seemed unlikely that he would have any negative opinions about it, if in fact he found out at all. Deadpool didn’t really seem the type to peruse the morning paper. And since neither Peter nor Spider-Man were connected with anyone in reality, that wasn’t a problem either.

Peter tilted back against the headrest and slowly calmed down as he decided this ultimately wasn’t a big deal. He might need to repeat that to himself a few times to really believe it, but… In fact, this might even be an opportunity. Judging by how over-the-top the reaction to the blurry photos had been, this could be a chance to get paid a better rate for the more in-demand “couple” photos. Money was always tight, and the reception to his typical Spider-Man photos wasn’t always enough, plus it was tricky to get the fight and action shots of himself that commanded more money; in some ways it would be easier if he really were two different people. So this could work out for him.

He was already out as bisexual in his personal life, after a previous relationship with another guy. But he could acknowledge to himself, that as complicated as coming out can be, the risk would only be amplified by being linked to Deadpool, of all people. But Spider-Man, as a persona and hero, could handle that, even if Peter, as himself, wouldn’t particularly want to deal with the many complicated layers there.

But alright, he could do this. He could casually mention the photos to Wade and see if the merc was offended, and if not, this could be a great chance to earn some much-needed cash.

With a sigh, Peter forced himself back into Jameson’s office as confidently as he could manage, to negotiate for higher pay rates for couple photos. He could talk this out with Deadpool soon enough. And frankly, if he made sure to set up his camera beforehand, even if Wade reacted badly, he could at least end up with some angry-looking break-up photos.

But it sure would be nice if, just once, the status quo could change in a way that _didn’t_ make his life infinitely more complicated.

* * *

 

The next day, Peter strategically waited on the rooftop of the building Wade had taken him to after the kidnapping. He had brought tacos and the most recent copy of the Bugle, with the huge cover story and blurry gotcha photos, proclaiming, “Masked Menace Dates Depraved Villain.”

Peter felt a frisson of worry, glumly waiting and staring for the millionth time at the photo of them together. While away from Deadpool he had been convinced the fake-dating plan would be a non-issue, but while he waited around to see if Deadpool might show up, it suddenly seemed completely problematic.

As if summoned by his increasingly grim thoughts, Deadpool vaulted onto the roof from the building next door. Peter was once again discomfited by how quiet his Spidey sense was around the older man. Despite the universal opinion about Deadpool’s instability and violence, he never registered as a priority danger to Peter.

Deadpool seemed more twitchy than usual, but Peter could see how he visibly began to relax when he saw the bag of tacos on the ground next to him. Wade settled on the roof edge next to Peter, still less calm than he’d seen him, and leaned over to bump their shoulders together.

“Hey Baby Boy, I wondered when I’d see you today.”

Peter could hear a hint of question or hesitation that wasn’t typical of Wade’s flirty comments to him. Those usually fairly reeked of excessive self-confidence and Deadpool’s uniquely playful arrogance.

“Yeah, I couldn’t remember making any specific plans yesterday, but I hoped you might stop by.”

“Anything for my Spidey-kins!” Wade fidgeted his gloved hands for a moment, then gestured to the newspaper in Peter’s lap. “Are you, uhh… Are you upset about the article? We could go demand they take it back, right, if you don’t want—”

Surprised that Wade brought it up first, and equally shocked to hear Wade say nearly verbatim what he had planned to offer, Peter hurried to reassure him, “No, it’s fine, I mean, it’s fine with me, if it’s…fine with you?”

He couldn’t help ending on a question, but he felt off-balance from how Deadpool was reacting to the conversation, so differently from what he would’ve expected. Wade’s body language had noticeably improved as Peter spoke, as if he were relieved to hear Spidey wasn’t angry about being linked with him in the press.

Peter wouldn’t have expected Wade to be concerned about any media attention, and with his endless and widespread flirtations, it didn’t seem like him to be embarrassed. Despite how often he flirted with Spider-Man specifically and intentionally, Wade obviously wasn’t serious about his romantic overtures to him, especially given how much he flirted with everyone else too, heroes and villains alike, from what Peter had seen, so his seeming sensitivity to Spider-Man’s reaction seemed odd.

But then again, hadn’t Peter learned that Wade could be kinder and calmer than he was to basically everyone else, especially when he was treated kindly or directly? Maybe this was just Wade recognizing that not everyone was as casually pansexual as Wade seemed to be, let alone as notorious as Deadpool, and he was simply being a good friend to acknowledge that being surprise-outed in the press, and alongside a dangerous mercenary no less, would be a serious concern for anyone.

To ease his mind a bit further, Peter added, “I mean, it’s not how I would’ve planned to come out, of course, but I am bisexual after all, so it’s not like they’re wrong.”

Wade was visibly more comfortable after Peter’s calm reaction, as he replied in a chattering rant with only a touch more agitation than normal, “Great, okay, well here we are, hashtag-couple-goals, right? Then the only thing we need to settle is our celebrity couple name, okay, and I’ve got ideas. First, I think an homage to dat ass is practically a necessity, and I’ve seen your fan pages online, hell, I comment on all your fan pages online, I’m not the only one who thinks that. So Ass-Kicking can be our couple name, whaddya think, wait, no, how about Dead-Man-Dating, or PeterPool, wait, no, no secret names. Spider-and-Pretty-Fly-For-A-Dead-Guy, that’s it!”

Peter laughed in spite of himself. “I’m pretty sure most couple names are supposed to use combinations of the _actual_ names, not just connected adjectives. But who am I to complain about the venerated name of our proud house? Now we just need a flag, or a uh, sigil, you know, like Game of Thrones. Maybe a pile of tacos, does that represent us well enough?”

Wade looked happier than Peter had yet seen him, and it made him feel glad he’d decided to befriend him. After all, it was easy enough to banter with him and begin to forget the oddity of their new friendship. Or, rather, faux-relationship.

“Dead-Webs, then, good enough even if you’re such a Hermione-rule-follower, Spidey! It’s so gothic, you love it.”

Peter laughed and stood up, surprised to find he was actually a bit sad to leave, despite his earlier hesitation and worry. “Okay, Mrs. Dead-Webs, I’ve gotta go to work. In case saying our couple name three times doesn’t summon us together, you want to put your number in my patrolling phone? And listen, you really don’t mind if they publish anything more about us, right? Even more photos?”

Wade eagerly grabbed the offered phone, and called himself to get the number. With an exaggerated leer he answered Peter’s other question. “I mean, I’m not ready for the sex tape to leak, I think we ought to build up to that, but sure, if they see us together I just hope they get our good sides. Your good side is here, by the way,” and he gestured expansively and appreciatively to Peter’s backside.

Peter couldn’t help tensing up as Wade moved into his space. He realized he was worried that joking around about their supposed relationship might be too accommodating to Wade, with his propensity to escalate flirtations even without any encouragement. “Listen, Wade, it’s just—”

He’d barely started talking when he was cut off, and not a moment too soon, since he was already beginning to flounder, wondering how to phrase his concerns without sounding prudish or insulting.

Wade hurriedly interjected, “Hey, it’s just a joke about the sex tape and all. I know you’re not that kind of spider! We’re taking it slow, of course.”

Peter huffed a relieved laugh. “Exactly, taking it slow. Glacial.”

Deadpool stayed seated and patted Peter’s knee as he stepped toward the roof edge to swing away. “Bye-bye, bae!”

Shaking his head at Deadpool’s endless teasing, he swung away and jokingly called back, “See you later, boyfriend!”


	2. Strike that, reverse it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Featuring ADORABLE art from the super talented [TheLastPinecone](https://thelastpinecone.tumblr.com/). It was so great collaborating with you, [TheLastPinecone](https://thelastpinecone.tumblr.com/)!

Wade quietly slunk into the safe house where he’d left Peter _(his name is Peter! We know his name!)_ resting and recovering. He’d had a bloody great time _(emphasis on the bloody)_ rescuing Spider-Man in the first place, but while Peter was sleeping, he’d ducked out to finish up un-aliving the rest of the gang who’d dared touch his spider.

He’d taken a bullet to the head at one point, and woken up shortly thereafter with a bit of murder-hangover. Every now and then one of his temporary deaths shredded his brain a bit, and left him with some memory fragments and confusion about what was real or fantasy or nightmare. S’no big deal, cause he’d shoot any nightmare that followed him into daytime, but occasionally it made his hit list and safe house addresses tricky to remember or find.

He’d been a teensy bit confused as to when and how he and Spider-Man had finally got together, after how long he’d been lusting from afar and, only very recently, flirting from up-close. And damn he was mad to have lost that memory, but after all, beggars and dead-ers can’t be choosers, and it was magic enough to walk in and see the younger man in his bed, in his space, under his protection. It was caveman magic, honestly, to come back to his BatCave after defending his baby boy, and find him curled up and cozy on the bed.

Peter _(his name is Peter! that will never get old!)_ had his mask off, obviously; since they were dating, he wouldn’t need to hide his face when they were alone. Wade was pretty sure he hadn’t seen the rest of Peter — and that had better be true, or he’d be even more furious about his lost memories — since they’d only even known each other a short time, and had only been dating maybe a week at this point, and Spider-Man might have a big mouth in volleying quips and banter back and forth with Wade, but the kid was honestly skittish about his personal space. Plus, it wasn’t like Wade was in any hurry to move the physical relationship along. He talked a big game, yeah, and he had the equipment to back it up, thank you very much, but it was unsettling to even think about letting Peter see all his scars and tortured skin, and no matter how much he’d like to ogle his gorgeous boyfriend, he wasn’t in a hurry to reciprocate. So this was fine. This was better than fine, this was Peter asleep in Wade’s sheets, safe again and trusting Wade to take care of him, and it doesn’t get much better than that.

As he stepped further into the room, Peter woke up abruptly. His tousled hair and cautious eyes and pale skin just slayed Wade. _How the hell did I get so lucky?_

He distracted himself with grabbing new weapons and more ammo, after his pleasant afternoon murder jaunt, and quipped to Peter about the Avengers all-superpowers-requested call to handle dinosaurs _(actual dinosaurs! You’d think it wouldn’t be so surprising, in a world with immortals and superheroes, but still—DINOSAURS!)_ and rushed him out the door and into the fight.

Other people might not consider battling supervillain-released dinosaurs to be a good date activity, but then other people would be wrong. Wade rolled his neck and kept up a brutally graceful ballet with his katanas, blood drops arcing through the air and dino limbs thudding on the shattered pavement, and whenever he spared a glance to the side or overhead, there was Spider-Man, swinging through the scene and perfectly dodging attacks like some choreographed dancer. He was so beautiful, and so talented, and so incredible, and as much as Wade loved losing himself in a fight, it gave him honest to God shivers to see his very own hero arcing through the skies around him.

He’d forgotten to worry about what the Avengers might know, or not know, about their relationship, but when they’d joined the fight everyone had looked a bit askance at them together, and that answered that: they obviously knew they were together, and they didn’t approve. It wasn’t a surprise; Deadpool could barely believe it himself, and as glad as he was that Spider-Man was dating him, honestly, Spider-Man could do a hell of a lot better. But Wade’ll be damned (or more damned than he was already, that is) if he’ll let any of the Avengers bother them about it. So he kept up the quips and Jurassic Park jokes as much as he can, and flat-out openly ogles his boyfriend _(his boyfriend! He can barely believe that’s true!)_ whenever it was safe enough to do so, and especially whenever he thought one of the Avengers was close enough to notice, since he couldn’t help but push the envelope. Iron Man stayed awfully close the whole time, and that was at least mildly concerning, since Spider-Man did seem to really admire the brilliant engineer, and fine, Wade could admit he did too (he’s just so damn individual and loud, and those are qualities Wade, of all people, could appreciate), so he was hoping they won’t get too much static from Stark about their relationship after the fight.

All too soon the prehistoric creatures were once more extinct, and everyone slumped around resting a bit before leaving. Spider-Man was evidently uncomfortable around the rest of the heroes, and as much as it pained Deadpool, he completely understood why the kid wouldn’t want to have to stand around justifying their relationship to everyone else. Hoping to reassert himself, and hopefully calm Peter down too, he put his arm around the younger man and made the most aggressive eye contact he could manage with a mask on with the rest of the Avengers, wishing the rest of the heroes would give them a little space, and enough time for Peter to leave already. When the Avengers finally started to perk up and began to surround them, he jostled Peter a little bit in the hopes of spurring him back into action. Wade fully expected to have a shovel talk with the Avengers, but he’d rather have all that unpleasantness happen only once Peter was far away.

Spider-Man turned toward Wade and said goodbye, and Wade couldn’t resist giving him a tighter half hug, and as loudly as he could casually manage, he flirtatiously said, “Anytime, boyfriend! You know I’ll do anything if it lands you in my bed, but you’re welcome anyway, sweet thing!” He blew a kiss at Spider-Man as he left, and couldn’t help a genuine grin when Peter almost coquettishly waved goodbye. _Well, here goes nothing._

* * *

 

Captain America planted himself in front of Wade, with Black Widow a menacing backup a few steps behind. It was always fun to see the Avengers. They’re all so hot and bang-able, and so mean to him, and honestly, that really works for Wade. This, though, this seemed much less fun. He didn’t (much) mind being dragged through the coals, literal or otherwise, for anything he’d done or said, but he’d already questioned why Peter _(oh God, his name is Peter, and **he** knows that, but that’s a secret identity, and he has to **not call him that** during this conversation)_ would ever willingly date a screwed up murderer like himself, and he wasn’t looking forward to having the same conversation outside his head, with some of his favorite heroes. He couldn’t even just play this off too much, either, because he knew how much Peter _(dammit, stop using that name, Wade, you’re gonna screw up and say it to someone, and it’s a secret!)_ respected and liked all the Avengers, and he didn’t want this whole deal to ruin Peter ( _oh dammit, Wade, stop it_ ) and his reputation. It seemed almost unavoidable, but he had to at least try to get through this shovel talk as smoothly as possible, and hope the heroes leave Spidey _(dammit, don’t…oh wait, yeah, that’s the right name, good job!)_ alone before they upset him or talk him out of his genuinely foolhardy crush on Deadpool.

Captain America looked resolute, or maybe constipated, but, probably resolute. “Listen, Wilson, we need to talk to you. We appreciate your help today, of course, but your behavior to Spider-Man is entirely inappropriate. We usually let your crude humor and suggestive language slide, because we’re all adults here, and we can all handle any harassment ourselves individually, but Spider-Man is a different case entirely. I didn’t want to make him any more uncomfortable than you already did with your excessive behavior today, so I waited for him to leave to talk to you, but, enough is enough. He’s much younger than the rest of us, and—”

Wade couldn’t help butting in, “Yeah he’s a real jail-bait-y twink, right? I know you’re into the salt and pepper look, Captain Tight Pants-“ with a significant nod towards Iron Man, who had just flown up, “-but Spider-Man turns on all my boxes.”

Tony had opened his faceplate, and grimaced. “First off, it’s ‘ticks all your boxes’—”

Deadpool quipped, “Oh he can do anything he wants to my boxes! My boxes give full enthusiastic consent!”

Tony continued, “—and this is exactly what we’re saying, you need to back off, the murder and mayhem is one thing, but we’re not gonna stand by and watch you harass a much younger member of the superhero community. We may not know his secret identity or his exact age, but he initialed a waiver to be able to assist the Avengers, and certified that he was over 18, and given how long he waited before finally signing it a year ago, I think he’s only just 19 now, and you’re, what, 35? So just settle down, Nabokov, and leave the kid alone.”

Wade stood slowly and deliberately, a jungle cat uncoiling. Black Widow reacted to the implied threat and angled to face him from a more defensive stance, but Captain America and Iron Man stood their ground, Steve likely from assertiveness or stubbornness and Tony probably from obliviousness to the increased threat.

“Sure, Spider-Man is younger than I am, so call me a cougar if you like, though it’s less an age gap than you two lovebirds, whether you count Captain Tight Pants here as the geezer or the ingénue. And frankly, depending on how you count the years, I’ve died a few times this year already, so why don’t you hassle Spider-Man about dating an infant. He’s taking cradle-robbing to a very literal place, from that perspective.”

Tony looked disgusted as he began to argue both the terminology and the insults, but Steve urgently interrupted to get to the main point Wade had made. _Guess there’s a reason he’s the team lead, big picture focus and all that._ “You’re trying to say Spider-Man is dating you? Wilson, you’re delusional and this is especially troubling—”

Wade cut in. “Hey, I probably am delusional and I’m definitely troubling, but I’m serious here, for once. Spider-Man and I are a couple, officially, and before you ask, yes, he knows that, too, this isn’t some name-it-and-claim-it nonsense.”

The Avengers all look varying shades of suspicious and doubting, so Wade feels compelled to escalate.

“Look, you saw us arrive together. I woke him up from _my bed_ , where he looked tousled and adorable, to tell him we’d been summoned here. I know his real name, and I’ve seen him unmasked—”

And he couldn’t help but add a leer, “unmasked in more ways than one, if ya know what I mean—”

“—But we are actually, truly, together, and you can dislike me all you want, but he’s a legal adult, in college, and he’s with me. So if you want to transition this little chat into a don’t-you-dare-hurt-our-son lecture from this fun but misguided stop-being-a-creepy-pervert rant, then I’ll happily acknowledge he’s a helluva superhero and a real upstanding arachnid and he’s way out of my league, and I have no intention of hurting him or letting anyone else hurt him, either.”

With a deliberately tense shift forward, to keep the more offensively-trained Avengers on their toes, Wade concluded, “And that includes any of you hassling him, too. I’m proudly in lust with any and all of you beautiful people, but if you infantilize him or question his right to make his own decisions, as a _legal adult_ , I’ll tweak my fantasies a bit and I’ll happily dead you instead of bed you.”

Wade used the stunned silence to make his exit. Well, it had been nice dating Spidey for the week they had. Whether Peter would stick around after the Avengers tried to advise him, that seemed less likely.

* * *

A few days later, Wade had settled on the rooftop alongside where Peter was waiting and offering him a bag of fast food. He tried to let Peter initiate any physical contact, as often as he remembered, both because Peter was so noticeably skittish about their relationship still, and because, in spite of himself, his talk with the Avengers had brought up all his insecurities full force again, and it was just nice to see Peter bridge the gap and prove Wade wasn’t alone in this.

And speaking of the Avengers, he needed to see if they’d already changed Peter’s mind, or if he should offer a heads-up that an intense discussion was still upcoming. He’d forgotten to mention it in their first post-fight conversation, what with the time he’d spent worried about their paparazzi photos in the news scaring off Peter.

As casually as he could manage, he said, “So the Avengers think I’m corrupting and cradle-robbing you.”

Peter had snorted as he sat next to Wade, and said, “But you told them the truth?”

Wade was inordinately pleased to hear that Peter didn’t agree, and replied, “Well, I told them we’re both oh-so-gay for Captain America, but until he’s single and ready to mingle, we’re settling for each other.” He got a more pensive look, behind the mask. “They did blame me, though, for things,” with an expansive gesture between the two of them, “and I reminded them that you’re a grown adult, and you can decide for yourself what risks you’re willing to take.”

Peter nodded seriously. “Well, I’m sure they’re worried about how the story’s exposure and all the photos are affecting me. I was only 16 when Iron Man first started mentoring me, and I know they still view me as a kid. And coming out can be difficult enough without adding in that it was unplanned and very public. I don’t think they even knew I wasn’t straight, so they might be worried about how this revelation might be affecting my ‘real life,’ if anyone knows who I am.”

Wade couldn’t help the flare of happiness he felt, despite the serious topic. Peter didn’t even realize, or wouldn’t acknowledge, that the Avengers were far more concerned with the _identity_ of Peter’s boyfriend, and not merely the fact that he even had a boyfriend. Either way, it was a huge relief for Wade to hear so clearly that Peter, for now at least, didn’t agree with the rest of the heroes that Wade was an outright danger, an automatic no. Wade forced himself to focus on the conversation again, and not this improbable yet apparently real world where Peter chose Wade and kept choosing him.

With as straight a face as he could manage, Wade said, “Does anyone in your other life know you’re Spider-Man? In my secret identity, I’m a Chippendale stripper with a heart of gold, so I forget other people might have more traditional concerns.”

Peter huffed a laugh, “Naw, no one knows everything about me. I’ve got to keep a little mystery, right? But I am technically bisexual in my other life, too, even though I think some people might not know. I got my job and went to college after I had broken up with my first and last ex-boyfriend, so it might not be common knowledge about me. Anyway, thanks for warning me. I guess I should expect them to worry about me, regardless, but especially whenever I show up in the news.” Peter nudged Wade’s arm with his shoulder, “Maybe they’re all just jealous of my arm candy, huh? We’ve already got our coordinating couple costumes, and I bet Tony’s been trying to get Steve into red and gold themed tights forever, so they’re just salty.”

Wade felt almost dizzy with happiness. He stood up with him as Peter prepared to swing away. Impulsively he kissed Peter’s cheek through the masks, and laughed at the surprised look Peter gave him.

* * *

Peter was sad about something in his personal life, something he would only allude to, but not explain. Wade tried to keep up the one-sided banter for awhile before settling into a heavy silence.

Eventually he said, “Hey, wanna go prank this dick bodega owner a few blocks over?”

Peter looked startled by the non-sequitur. “Why, what did he do?”

Wade shrugged, carelessly. Peter laughed lightly, still a bit careworn but willing to be distracted.

“Did he even do anything?”

“Yeah, yeah, for sure.” Wade rummaged through his pockets and tossed Peter a tiny and very weatherbeaten notebook.

“Oh, God, Wade, is this blood on it?”

“Most definitely.”

“Is it yours?!”

Wade shrugged again, as Peter admitted, “Honestly, I don’t even know what answer to that question would be less disturbing.”

Peter looked over at Wade as if to get his permission to look through it, and Wade nodded nonchalantly.

“Take a gander, it’s just my deepest and darkest secrets.”

Peter carefully flipped through the first half of the notebook, to see that it was a series of notes and to-do lists, with some items crossed out and other items repeated on several pages without ever being crossed out. The most recent page had a number of confusing entries, including, ‘4. Teach that dick bodega owner on 12th a lesson,’ and Peter laughed again.

“So I see ‘dick bodega owner’ is his official name.”

Wade nodded seriously. “Yes, exactly, it’s a title, passed down through the centuries. I’ve been adding that item to every new to-do list I start. I didn’t write down what he did, and I sure as hell don’t remember now, several resurrections later, but for me to bother to pull out my notebook and write it down—oh, he’s an official dick, alright. And ‘teach a lesson’ just means prank. I wouldn’t have written it like that if he deserved something more…shall we say, permanent.”

Peter scoffed and continued looking down the list, stopping abruptly at ‘9. To-Do: SPIDER-MAN and DAT ASS’ with additional notes written alongside it. ‘Secret identity’ was crossed out, with ‘super cute face’ and ‘brown eyes’ surrounded by tiny hearts, and ‘officially 18+’ written below, with a few less tasteful doodles.

Peter choked at the next notation. “My first name isn’t Penis!”

Wade guffawed and elbowed Peter, “Oh, Baby Boy, you keep a secret for too long and you start to forget the truth, huh? Thaz ‘lright, I still like you, Penis, even with your spotty memory.”


	3. Take a leap, or take a hike

After a few nights where they’d ended up back in the apartment after patrol, Peter had noticed how much Deadpool hid his face and skin. Occasionally they’d eaten on the roof before, and Wade would usually sit beside him, face angled away, as he lifted his mask and practically inhaled his food. Peter would conscientiously avoid looking at him or mentioning his quirks, but he did wonder; the most he’d heard from the Avengers was that Deadpool was dangerous and murderous, basically immortal with his healing factor, and ugly as sin. Well, he’d heard some other choice words too, anytime Mr. Stark got on a rant, or Hawkeye chimed in. But he didn’t really know why Wade stayed so covered up, especially when he otherwise seemed to exude confidence, or at least seemed immune to anything anyone ever said to or about him.

But in the brightly lit apartment, Wade would delay eating, or even leave the room to surreptitiously eat, and he never took his gloves off, even when they would play video games before Peter would head home for the night. Peter considered broaching the topic a few times, but always felt it wasn’t his place to mention it. He even almost wanted to ask if Wade had minded him always removing his own mask and gloves to eat and game, but Wade never seemed upset about that, and it seemed safer to not bring up the topic. Finally, on a hotter night, Peter was exhausted and sweaty by the time they hauled themselves in from the fire escape, and he wearily dragged off his gloves and mask, scrubbing his face in his hands with a tired sigh.

“Why don’t you ever take anything off, Wade? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, in your own home, you should pull them up or off if you want to, so ignore me, if that’s why you don’t.”

Wade tensed and stopped mid-motion as he was moving over to drop down on the couch. He straightened up awkwardly and rubbed the back of his neck uneasily.

“It’s…you wouldn’t want to see this. Especially not when you’re trying to eat.” He shifted his feet and half-heartedly attempted a joke. “Or you just want to get me naked, huh. You’re trying to seduce me, Mr. Robinson? All ya gotta do is turn out the lights and I’m all yours, babe.”

Peter ignored the joke, an obvious attempt at a distraction.

“I’m serious, Wade. You shouldn’t feel uncomfortable around me. I wouldn’t—I don’t want to make you do something you don’t want, but I swear you can take your mask off, and I won’t say anything. You know I would keep your secret, if that’s what you’re worried about. You’ve saved my life a few times, I’d owe you at least that! Or even just keep your mask on but rolled up, and then your secret identity is still safe. Or if you think I’ll ever make fun of your looks, I promise I wouldn’t. You’re my— I wouldn’t say anything about your looks.”

Wade scoffed. “No such thing as a secret identity for me. And there’s nothing to make fun of, about the way I look. Only reason you’d laugh is to keep from crying. It’s a damn horror show under here.”

Peter shook his head intensely. “I’m not trying to force you into anything, but you really can trust me. I’m your friend, first and foremost, aren’t I?” Peter looked away when Wade didn’t answer.

Wade huffed a sigh. “I’m covered in scars, Peter. Literally covered. I don’t want you to see, because then that’s all you’ll ever be able to think of about me. It’s gruesome, and it’s different to hear about versus actually seeing it, and…It’ll be all you’ll ever picture or think of when you see me.”

Peter nodded. “Maybe. I mean, I guess it’s not fair to promise it won’t change my mind about you. It’ll be the picture in my head for your looks, probably, right? But I think you ought to give me more credit, give yourself more credit.” His voice lightened to a teasing tone. “You’re a huge personality, Wade, and your ego, my God, I’m just not sure if there’ll be room in my mental entry about you to include notes on your scars too! I already spend too much memory space linking you with guns: Literal guns of course, the daily gun show, naturally-” gesturing appreciatively to Wade’s massive arms, “-oh and finger guns, because nobody does as many and as inappropriately timed finger guns as you! But maybe you’re right, maybe suddenly everything I know about you, everything I think about you, everything single thing I appreciate about you right now, will get completely erased just because you’re…unfortunate looking.”

Wade paced, agitated and aggravated. Finally, he stopped abruptly and ripped the gloves off his disfigured hands. As calmly as possible, studiously maintaining normal eye contact — at least, as well as one can with someone in a mask — Peter handed him a taco, and sat back down on the couch.

“Drama queen,” he muttered, and then laughed hysterically as soon as Wade reacted and flung the taco back at him.

It devolved into a ridiculous wrestle fight, and Peter laughed until he wheezed, but from then on, Wade would usually play video games without the gloves, and sometimes even leave the mask rolled up the slightest bit after eating. Peter wished he could tell him he was proud of him, without having to make a deal of it or show too much of the emotions he was carting around and trying to hide, but instead he kept the status quo and never mentioned the gloves or mask again. Maybe someday Wade would feel more comfortable around him. Honestly, maybe someday Peter would feel more comfortable around Wade, too, because, scars aside, Peter always felt much more exposed than Wade, whenever they hung out. Wade could be serious and sweet, and Peter couldn’t resist trusting him and letting down his guard around him, but as much as Wade laughed and relaxed around Peter, there was always this caution to him, as though the mask were a too-blatant a symbol for how he lived his life, and Peter might never get to really know the man behind the mask.

Or maybe he was just being melancholy; he certainly found himself more moody lately, dragging this cumbersome secret crush around with him.

* * *

But it was fine, it was all fine. He’d had to correct himself whenever he’d started to think of time with Wade as “their patrols” followed by meals on “their roof,” and it was possible he was thinking of Wade more often than he had originally, but that was inevitable when you’re growing a friendship with someone, with anyone, right? It didn’t mean anything. It didn’t mean anything that the days they don’t meet up feel a bit colder. It didn’t mean anything that there were times they hugged or slung arms around each other and he got caught up in how warm Wade is even through their two layers of suits, and forgot to trigger the remote camera to get his paparazzi pics. It didn’t mean anything that he later lingered on the photos he did take a bit more than he _quite_ needed to. _But he’s fine, everything’s fine._

The point was— the point was, that it’d been surprisingly easy to befriend Wade. He could do with fewer eggplant emojis from Wade in their text messages on his burner phone, but even that wasn’t really a problem. It shouldn’t have shocked him initially (honestly, knowing Wade, by now nothing should shock him anymore) to get some frequent and inventive sexts, but he did his best to ignore those and just kept up friendly conversation. He couldn’t quite nail down how he felt about how flirty the merc could be; it made him uncomfortable at first, and then as he got used to Wade’s style, it merely aggravated him, and lately, it wasn’t that it bothered him, but he did wish he’d stop. Or something. He’d rather not linger too long on thinking about what exactly he wanted.

He was sitting on “their roof” right now, waiting for Wade to show up. They’d texted earlier, and Peter had suggested they meet on their roof, eat the taquitos he’d bring, then go on patrol, and Wade had suggested an after-party featuring X-Box and hot pockets at the safe house apartment. Wade had also suggested alternative interpretations for “enjoy hot pockets,” and as always, Peter was resolutely sidestepping that and keeping things mostly PG.

But now, with a few precious minutes of downtime, he clicked back through the conversation to see if Wade had mentioned if he might be late, and in the few moments of introspective silence he realized what’d changed: he didn’t wish Wade would stop sexting, he just wished he could reciprocate. It would be such a bad idea ( _such a bad idea,_ he repeats to himself). He couldn’t even be sure what he was feeling about Wade; he was probably just still caught up in their new friendship and the sense of camaraderie he has felt with Wade, to be able to sit in their costumes in the apartment, with Peter’s mask pulled off whenever he feels like it. A shared secret could be a powerful connection, that was probably all this was.

And besides, despite how much Wade flirted with him ( _endlessly, perpetually, excessively_ ), there was no telling what he actually felt or meant. The man literally propositioned the fridge at Stark Tower just the other day during a quick meeting with Black Widow, and with how advanced that technology was, that might not even be that improbable a relationship, so it wasn’t completely absurd that it made Peter a little jealous. He couldn’t even deny it, in his head: he felt a bit jealous about a damn fridge getting attention from his Wade. Not “his” Wade, that’s absurd…

Damn it. It’d really happened, he’d caught feelings for a notoriously crazy, possibly immortal, mercenary. Solid decision-making, Parker.

He was too agitated to sit still and wait anymore, so he decided to head out on patrol by himself. He used to always patrol by himself, he’d never had a partner before Wade, and it didn’t feel fair that after only a month or so of their friendship, solo patrols now felt especially boring and bleak and long and any other melancholy words. It probably wasn’t the best idea, to go swinging through the dark city while he was so distracted, but it was so freeing to go careening over busy city streets, nearly unnoticed. He wasn’t sure what to do with his grand revelation. Wade was unexpectedly kind, beneath a genuinely impervious layer of snark and innuendo, but the glimpses of the personality underneath are fascinating. It was that hidden person that might actually reciprocate Peter’s feelings, or then again, that person might rightly consider himself to be too much older and on a different level compared Peter. After all, it was only the surface-level jokester who ever catcalled and hit on Peter, and that version of Deadpool was as shallow as a shower; it was unlikely those comments meant anything to Deadpool, and Peter bantered around often enough that he really oughtta know better than to take any quips seriously.

Besides, even if Wade would reciprocate his feelings, would that even be a good idea? Peter was leery of Wade’s newfound commitment to minimal killing, and for all he knew, Wade went on murderous rampages the moment he left Peter. And Wade had warned Peter that the Avengers had a lot to say about the very idea of the merc and the spider dating. Peter had been low-key avoiding full meetings at the Tower as much as possible since then. It wasn’t like he was ever regularly invited, but Stark was pretty generous with his time and space, and Peter used to occasionally drop by to see the other heroes and catch up on superhero gossip, of which there was always a surprising amount. But now that he and Wade, and their possible connection, were apparently the main gossip, he’d stayed away as much as he can, hoping to avoid any further warnings about the dangerous mercenary, and waiting for the initial media hubbub over their apparent friendship to die down. Black Widow had imperiously arched a perfect eyebrow at him when he and Wade showed up as discreetly as possible when they were summoned for a check-in with her about possible upcoming supervillain activities. She had avoided outright saying anything about their awfully convenient timing, slipping in right after Tony and Steve had left for a press conference, and everyone else was apparently out and about. He couldn’t decide if she simply respected his privacy, or if her own familiarity with fake or covert relationships from her spy background made a spoken conversation unnecessary, or if she was simply willing to leave him to his own mistakes. She was such a canny and unreadable character, he half-felt she had left him to his own mind and circular thoughts on purpose. He had asked what Wade thought, as to why she wouldn’t mention their connection after the hubbub the others had made, and Wade had said, “game recognize game” and immediately moved the conversation to a mostly one-sided debate about the best times for eating breakfast foods, going down a list of his favorites.

Peter had eventually stopped mentally tying himself in knots around the time Wade asserted that French toast were best enjoyed as a traditional breakfast-time meal, since, Peter had to interject, “everyone knows the optimal timing of French toast is brunch, and even if you’re Canadian, Wade, you still have to acknowledge the patriotic power of American Sunday brunch, it’s preppy and undeniable, and it demands French toast and mimosas.”

* * *

 

 

A week later, Peter’s luck in avoiding the rest of the heroes ran out, when he and Wade were called up for a full Avengers fight. It was a quick and dirty scramble against Doombots, and while Peter usually enjoyed full collaboration events with all the other heroes, he felt especially on-edge the whole time, and intensely aware of ongoing scrutiny from the Avengers as he and Wade fell into their easy camaraderie and partnered fighting style. Their time of shared patrols had made them an effective team, and it often felt to Peter as though they’d be working together for a much longer time, with how comfortable everything was with Wade, on-patrol or off. Peter tried to focus on the fight, webbing up and swinging the Doombots into Wade’s hypnotically swirling katanas. As worried as he was about all the social aspects of the event, he wasn’t worried about the fight itself. The Avengers had called the secondary heroes in just to minimize the area the Doombots could reach, since they were typically relatively simple to dispatch but so numerous and quick to cause widespread property damage that too many fighters were definitely preferred to too few.

Deadpool seemed, as usual, oblivious to any undercurrent of tension; Peter could never decide if Wade was hyper-aware of the tension always surrounding him but opted to ignore it, or if he never even noticed it. Either was possible, since Deadpool could be such a little shit, he’d no doubt adore the chance to intentionally unsettle others, but in the same way a fish doesn’t notice it’s wet, Wade was so universally scorned as unstable and problematic that he honestly might not even recognize what group acceptance feels like anymore. It was that upsetting thought that led Peter to force himself to try to act as relaxed and humorous as they usually were on their patrols together. He tried to keep up with Deadpool’s banter, and he even begrudgingly picked Wade up and swung them both over to a different area when Wade loudly demanded “Tarzan swings.”

Peter had resisted ever giving Deadpool rides, even into their friendship, because of how close they would need to be to swing together, but somewhere in their two months of hanging out together, Peter had stood up to swing away and been surprised by Wade jumping onto his back and asking for a “piggyback fly.” Peter had wanted to be annoyed, but mostly he found Wade’s boundless humor and childlike excitement to be unavoidably contagious, especially when the alternative was typically Wade’s infrequent but crushing dark moods. Wade usually was the one to get Peter out of his own head, but now and again Wade would stop answering texts or miss a patrolling meet-up, and Peter would try to lure him back into good humor. Nearness and physical contact, even as simple as a hand on his shoulder, was the quickest way to boost Wade’s mood, and while he initially resisted out of discomfort, lately he only resisted because of how much he’d come to crave the connection with Wade too. It was confusing, and risky, and as much as he tried to convince himself to force some distance between them again, he could never seem to force himself to shrug off Wade’s side-hugs or koala clinging. And after all, with how much Peter himself adored getting to swing through the city, he could appreciate how much Wade looked forward to those few and far between rides.

Finally, the area around them was quiet, the ground littered with shattered and sparking robotic pieces, gleaming dully in the streetlights. Deadpool was insisting on victory flips, an absurd tradition he’d instituted after they’d stopped a particularly acrobatic pair of thieves from robbing a jewelry store during a nighttime patrol, where the criminals had nearly flipped and leaped away. Afterwards, Wade had begged Peter to stand on Wade’s hands so he could boost and flip him up and away, and had finished off with a standing backflip of his own, and somehow this had become an ongoing ritual anytime they ended a fight where one of them had been especially agile.

Peter was actually rather proud of some of the combo moves they’d just pulled off, and the other heroes were still a bit distracted with the few remaining Doombots, so he reluctantly agreed. Wade launched him up with his powerful arms, and Peter laughed madly as he angled his flip this time to land directly in front of Wade when Wade finished his backflip. They stood face to face, caught in an instant of arrested motion. Peter felt almost as if the flips had magnetized them, the way they stood so closely together now, each hesitant to break the moment. Peter broke first, shamefaced under his mask; he could argue his crush in his own mind as much as he wanted, but he kept allowing and even pursuing these electrified opportunities, close enough where either one could lean forward the slightest bit and kiss the other. Every time Peter panicked and moved away first, and every time he wondered again what Wade thought of his behavior. Was he ignoring the sexual tension Peter kept feeling between them? Was Wade stoically allowing  and ignoring it because he didn’t want to openly reject Peter, or was Peter so alone in this feeling that Wade didn’t even sense the heaviness of the moments from his side?

Peter forced himself to try to lighten the mood, and walked purposefully away from Wade and into the main group of heroes. He was here now, after all, and if they had something to say to him or both of them about their recent friendship and media-fueled relationship rumors, he may as well get that all out of the way as quickly as possible.

Captain America strode confidently over when he noticed Peter approaching.

“Good work, Spider-Man. Thanks for your assistance. Do you need any medical attention?”

Peter was shaking his head no when Iron Man landed lightly beside them. “Hey, kid. You and your boyfriend are the Dream Team, huh? You two sure are coordinated together.”

“Um, thank you, sir, but Deadpool isn’t my boyfriend.”

Steve stepped closer. “Spider-Man, we didn’t mean any offense. Right, Tony? Is there another term you prefer—Partner, perhaps?”

Tony laughingly offered, “Fellow psychopath, maybe?"

Peter felt himself blushing under his mask. He’d expected to catch some heat over the time he was spending with Wade, but he hadn’t expected his one-sided crush to be so obvious to everyone else. If even Captain America was commenting on it, a man who took professionalism around his team to extreme levels, then it was apparently very blatant. God, what must Wade be thinking about Peter? Even if he didn’t mind Peter’s growing obsession with him, since they were definitely good friends by now, he probably wouldn’t want the other heroes joking about them like that. Peter knew how much Wade looked up to the Avengers, all his endless joking aside, and he might actually be embarrassed to have them implying he was involved with Peter.

With an awkward gulp, Peter tried to play off their comments. “Sheesh, you guys are as bad as Deadpool is, with all the teasing and nicknames! We’ve been partnering for patrols lately, yes, but we’re not dating, and you know it.”

There was an awkward silence after his outburst. Peter miserably toed at the ground and tried to find a way to exit the situation as quickly as possible. He muttered something about needing to leave, and despite the number of searching looks from everyone else, no one tried to talk to him any further. He noticed Deadpool staring intently after him and waving off Black Widow to keep watching Peter leave as she slipped over alongside of Wade.

* * *

He ended up on “their rooftop” without fully intending to. Pacing uncomfortably, he tried to decide if it was better to wait and see if Wade would want to come and talk about it, or if it would be better for everyone if he just went home, and tried to pretend this hadn’t happened. What a mess. He was flushed and agitated. He felt so dumb. The Avengers often made him feel like a child, with how Steve was so intentional and careful in deploying him, how Iron Man always still called him “kid,” and how everyone but Black Widow acted a bit protective of him when placed near him in a fight. In a way, Peter felt like Black Widow’s ignoring of him was actually her own way of coddling him, since she could be terrifyingly intense to everyone else, but he wasn’t going to complain about that, since, after all, it was objective fact that she was terrifying one-on-one.

But right now, he felt as childish as ever, caught out in a stupid crush, when he was supposed to be working. Mind and heart roiling, he hadn’t decided to stay or go yet when Deadpool jumped onto the roof from the nearby building. As tense as Peter felt, he noticed Wade looked even more rigid, if possible. There was a cold fury emanating from the merc, one Peter had noticed only once before, during a patrol when an otherwise unimportant bad guy had managed to get in a clean punch when Peter was distracted and nearly knocked him over while Wade was handling some of the rest of the gang. Wade had immediately switched from his joking and cheerful “baddie hunting” attitude and mercilessly incapacitated the bad guy and the rest of the gang with the ruthless speed he rarely used outside of the catastrophic missions the Avengers called them for. This was the same energy, and Peter could immediately clock the difference: normally his time with Peter was treated like a game, but this was deadly serious.

Wade was silent as he approached. Peter had noticed before that as Wade spent more time with Peter, he would relax his situational awareness, and even let Peter stand at his back, and spent most of their time side by side. But now, he was fully alert, facing nearly head-on, with a defensive stance and closed off body language.

Peter felt ice cold, frozen, miserable. Would Wade be furious and raging, would he sneer at Peter’s inopportune crush? Or would he be cold and distant, lecturing him about boundaries?

The moment lingered, painfully.

Wade finally grit out, “Why did you say that?”

Peter fumbled for an answer, wishing for the millionth time that he could see Wade’s eyes to gauge how upset or angry he was. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what else you want me to say. I didn’t mean for it to go this far.” He hung his head, pained and awkward.

Wade was reflexively flexing and clenching his fists. He seemed to be gazing far off into the city, looking for an answer that wasn’t there. “‘This far,’ that’s what you say to me? You ‘didn’t mean for it to go this far.’ What exactly _did_ you mean, then? What was the plan here, were you just messing with me, was it some prank you were going to surprise the Avengers with? I’ve known that how you felt about me didn’t match what I felt about you, but I didn’t think you would be like this. I didn’t think you were capable of something like this.”

Peter was stunned, tipping his misery into anger.

“What I meant was to be your friend! And I thought you were mine! But if you don’t even think me capable of feeling like this, then you don’t know me at all. I may be younger than you, and I may be a newer hero, but that’s a low blow, Wade. You should know this wasn’t a prank.”

Wade growled back, “I _was_ yours, until you apparently changed your mind about me. And thanks, but you don’t have to go through the list of ways we’re different, I’m plenty aware.”

Peter was feeling emotional whiplash. He’d been panicked with the Avengers, anxious while pacing on the rooftop, miserable when waiting for Wade to finally say something, and uncomfortable when Wade had finally started to speak, but then Wade’s angry accusations had fueled a sudden flare of rage that was just as quickly already subsiding into an disconcerted unease at the tone—was it pain?—in Wade’s voice. Why would Wade sound pained now, and why did the conversation suddenly seem fraught with the same discomfort from both sides?

“And what was I supposed to say to them, what am I supposed to say to you?” Peter said, then hesitated a long moment, and decided to go for broke. Their friendship was already fracturing, and Peter’s crush was already a punchline. He told himself there was nothing further to risk in getting this off his chest. “I’m sorry I embarrassed you, Wade, or upset you. I wanted to be your friend, and I didn’t mean to let things escalate like this, and I didn’t mean to build it up in my head and start to interpret all the ways you tease me as being real. I didn’t think I was being so blatant that the Avengers would all find it obvious enough to comment on it, but I guess I don’t feel things by halves. When I started to wish we were actually dating, it was just easy enough to pretend that’s what we were already doing, I guess.”

Wade had snapped his head back up to look at Peter. “When—when did you start to wish we were dating?”

Peter shrugged, awkwardly. “I don’t know, a few weeks ago. A few weeks after you rescued me, and we started patrolling together.  I know that’s fast, I know you’re going to say…no, actually, I have no idea what you’re going to say. But look, we barely knew each other just a few months ago, we’d hardly even spoken, and after you rescued me things started to change. You changed, around me, you opened up more, and I—well, I always thought snarky Deadpool was funny, but _you_ , Wade, the real you, you’re a lot deeper than I had given you credit for. With getting to know you, and getting to see that, it changed my mind about you. And I didn’t mean to fall for you, and I’ve been trying to talk myself out of it, but I couldn’t. And now even the Avengers can tell I’ve got a crush after observing us through one fight, so I’m clearly not doing a great job of hiding my feelings.”

Wade scoffed, and Peter was reeling at how vulnerable he was feeling right now. He was trying so hard to just get through this conversation, but it felt suffocating to try to explain his heart, while getting so little feedback, and all of it seemingly negative or even angry.

Wade had looked away again, and the tension was back in his shoulders, though Peter had briefly thought the other man had started to relax or soften a little as he’d been confessing. Wishful thinking, apparently.

Wade asked, in a tight voice, “Whatever you said you’re feeling now, you said you tried to talk yourself out of it, yeah? Why did you want to talk yourself out of that?”

Peter struggled to find the words, as well as the grit to say them. “I just thought, if you reciprocated, you’d surely have made a move already. Right? I know you flirt and flirt with me, but I wasn’t sure if you were actually feeling anything that I was feeling. And anytime it seemed like there was a moment between us, a tipping point, you usually backed away, or let me walk away. But you were just trying to let me down easy, and I understand, and I’m sorry I couldn’t leave things well enough alone.”

Deadpool was still and immovable. He seemed to be wrestling with how to respond, and Peter tried to stay patient. This conversation couldn’t possibly go on much longer, and then he could leave, and try to forget all about this, preferably while drowning his sorrow in ice cream, or maybe a particularly busy night of patrolling. He just had to get through the next few excruciating minutes, and later he could worry about how to finish cauterizing this open wound, his heart thudding painfully in his chest.

Wade finally spoke, in slow measured tones, as though he were afraid of saying one word out of place, but couldn’t risk the chance that he wouldn’t speak at all if he didn’t keep the momentum. “I didn’t make a move, Peter, because I was waiting for you to catch up. Because I know I’m the last person you should be with, just like the Avengers said, but because I couldn’t force myself to let go of you, even though I knew I probably should.”

Peter was gawking at him, but Wade continued, louder and more impassioned.

“And most importantly, I didn’t make a move because I thought you were already mine. I’ve got Swiss cheese memories, you know, and I don’t remember much of the day I rescued you, and I remember less of the days right before, too. So when I came home to my backup apartment, and you were asleep in my bed, mask off, trusting me and talking to me, and joking around with me, and going to fight with the Avengers at my side, I thought I’d managed to forget the best day of my life, which was whatever day I’d apparently convinced you to date me. And you were there every day after, when I looked for you! You were there. You were always there, and no one’s ever there, and no one ever stays there. But you kept answering my texts, and showing up at my door, and letting me follow you around on your patrols.”

His voice fell softer then, and more pained.

“I thought you were mine. And I didn’t know how it had happened, but I wasn’t in a hurry to question that, just in case you changed your mind.”

Stunned, Peter stood motionless, blank. He knew he should answer, say something, anything, but he was so baffled at the impossible turn of events, he felt utterly speechless. He was finally jolted into movement as he saw Wade start to step away.

“Where are you going?! You can’t just drop a bombshell like that and walk away!”

Wade looked back, rueful look visible through his mask. “It’s a helluva lot to spring on you, I just want to give you some space.”

Peter scoffed. “It seems to me that you’ve been giving me entirely too much space this whole time. Now come back over here and listen to me.”

He pulled off his mask as Wade timidly shuffled closer, and Wade looked as though he expected the mask removal to precede a shouting match or maybe a punch. Enough misunderstandings, Peter decided. He stepped up and kissed Wade on the mask, waiting for Wade to respond. When Wade stayed stiff and unmoving, Peter gathered the rest of his courage; surely Wade wouldn’t have said all that and not intend to follow through. It had sounded like Wade needed some reassurance. Peter tapped at Wade’s chin.

“I may be less experienced than you, but I’m pretty sure this would go better with your mask off. Well, with everything off, actually, but since we’re outside at the moment, and since I think my exhibitionism is mostly limited to wearing spandex and nothing much more adventurous than that, I’d settle for just the mask off.”

Wade hesitated the briefest moment longer, and then just barely pulled up the edge of his mask so Peter could see his smirk. As he tugged Peter close for a perfectly theatrical kiss, he said, “Oh, Spidey, I think this is the start of a very beautiful…make-out.”

* * *

 

**Epilogue**

The next time they got an Avengers call for a special meeting was a week after that. Peter had honestly managed to forget the cliffhanger they’d left the Avengers on, with Wade having apparently told them they were dating, and then Peter arguing that they weren’t. He felt the memory punch into him with a start as soon as the Avengers-specific alarm sounded on his patrolling phone, and he looked over with frantic eyes at Wade, on the couch next to him.

Wade laughed a little uncomfortably, “What’s with the face, Baby Boy? Doncha like when the Avengers call us in? Isn’t it nice to be needed?”

Peter sputtered, “But I just remembered! The last time we saw them, the Avengers called you my boyfriend, and I said you weren’t! And, oh God, you were still there after I left! What did they say to you, I can’t believe you haven’t mentioned this at all yet! What am I supposed to tell them, what did _you_ tell them?!”

Wade grinned wide under the partially rolled-up mask, “Calm down, Petey-pie! It’s all good, right? We _are_ together now, so it doesn’t matter what we said or did before, it can’t touch us now. And I barely remember what they said or did, I was so upset after you said that and left. I didn’t stick around very long before following you.”

Peter snuggled up under Wade’s arm, looking contrite. “I’m sorry about all of that. I know it was all just a ridiculous misunderstanding. At least we’re here now.”

Wade interrupted, “Hey, didn’t I just say none of that can touch us now? Water under the bridge. And since you _can_ touch us now, and we’ve got a little time before the meeting…”

Peter ignored the waggling eyebrows and leer, “But really, Wade, I am sorry that you were all alone in this relationship, at first. And I’m sorry I left you with the Avengers, of all people, after dropping what turned out to be a bombshell, even though it wasn’t on purpose.”

Wade’s expression softened. “Oh, Baby Boy, really, you don’t hafta to keep saying it. You’re here now, so what more could I want?” Peter smiled softly and hugged him tighter. Wade made an exaggerated thoughtful face, hand to chin. “Although, now that we’re talking about making amends…”

* * *

 

The next day, the Daily Bugle’s headline read, “Heroes Humor Horrendous Hook-Up!” above a crystal-clear photo, credited to P. Parker, of Deadpool tipping Spider-Man into a truly impressive dip-kiss, with the gathered Avengers arrayed picturesquely behind them.

**Author's Note:**

> This is technically the first fanfic I have ever written, and the first Big Bang I ever joined, and I had an absolutely Marvel-lous time!  
> I hope you liked the story! Please leave me a comment here or on my tumblr [RansomNoteworthy](https://ransomnoteworthy.tumblr.com/), cause I'd love to hear from you!
> 
> Thanks again to SpideyPool Big Bang 2018 and my artist [TheLastPineCone](https://thelastpinecone.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
